


Gun Play Turns Into Pillow Talk

by justtrustmeandjump



Series: Drug Dealing AU [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Almost violence, Drug Dealing, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, alcohol mention, drug mention, hanamatsu - Freeform, implied alcohol use, just mentions, matsuhana - Freeform, more will come tho do not fret!, none of the warnings are heavily descriptive in this part, not too descriptive though, there's a brief almost-panic attack and an almost 'blocking out' moment, there's also no kissing just lots of build up/establishment and flirting~
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 09:47:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7097509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justtrustmeandjump/pseuds/justtrustmeandjump
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drug dealing/using, relationships, bitchy friends, sleepovers, and so, so, so much more!</p><p>**</p><p>THIS CAN DEF BE READ AS A STAND ALONE But there's a lot of establishment for matsuhana ((hanamatsu???)) so maybe stick around for the rest of the au?..maybe? it could be awesome just sayin'.</p><p>**</p><p>Alright-y so! This is a series I'm starting that's creatively titled "Drug Dealing AU" for now and my plan is for it to be really badass ((im hoping, im kinda lame so it might turn out cheesy BUT LIFE'S FULL OF SURPRISES))</p><p>**</p><p>Some facts about the AU </p><p>- Each part is a different ship, but other ships are featured</p><p>- I think all the teams are gonna be a gang ((but only fukurodani, nekoma, aoba johsai, and karasunoare are planned ~for now~)) ((but WHERE IS WATARI YOU MAY BE ASKING. his bald ass comin' soon dw))</p><p>- This is set in Tokyo</p><p>- Each fic CAN be read as a stand alone, but def recommend reading the whole series for lil details~</p><p>**</p><p>HOPEFULLY you've read this far lmao ahhh okay one more thing, i might be making playlists for this AU bc im a sucker for that kinda thing lmao okokok now im done you can read now!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gun Play Turns Into Pillow Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Miguel's song "Coffee" WHICH doesn't really have to do with this fic but reminds me of matsuhana so much it HURTS my tiny heart ♥
> 
> Kudos, hearts, bookmarks, and comments make my heart soar omgg
> 
> If there's any mistakes/criticisms/things you think should be tagged/other then please, please, please let me know!! 
> 
> Okay, happy reading!

"You know. a lot of people would literally kill for the tickets you have, Kentarou."

"Teenagers, yeah, no shit."

"Well," Takahiro huffs out a quiet chuckle and sips at his coffee. "I was thinking more along the lines of 'Shiguru'."

Takahiro keeps walking, noticing the run down look of the part of town he's in and shrugging it off. Rugged or not, the antique shop he's looking for is one of a kind and just in Takahiro's price range : dirt cheap.

"You-I-What the hell are you trying to imply, Princess?" Kentarou's voice is threatening and Takahiro coos.

"Awww, you like him!"

"I do not-"

"You love him," He interrupts. "You want a million dogs, cats, chickens, horses-"

"What the fuck. I don't want a god damn farm."

"You're right, that's Ushiwaka."

Kentarou laughs at that, his end of the line turning static-y as he tries to muffle his phone. "You know what he reblogged today?"

Takahiro does. "Pepe?"

"Jesus fucking Christ I shit you not, I nearly pissed myself. Does he even know what a meme is?"

"Better question : does he know you don't actually grow them?"

Kentarou laughs and Takahiro smiles around his straw. "Hey, do you really think Shiguru would wanna come with me?"

Takahiro rolls his eyes and turns a corner. Ah, there's the shop. "Of course, you idiot. He loves you too."

He hears a sharp intake of breath and grins as he enters the shop, the door letting out a pleasant jingle of acknowledgement. "Okay I gotta go now, lover boy~"

"Yeah, yeah, fuck you."

Takahiro laughs and hangs up just as the clerk looks up from his graphic novel; he takes out the blue lollipop he'd been sucking on and Takahiro catches a gleam of silver before the man starts talking. "Yo! Need any help?"

Takahiro looks around - the shop is quaint, but stuffed to the short roof with trinkets, dirty vases, about a thousand porcelain dolls, the works. He smiles and shakes his head at the blonde. "Nah, I'm alright, thanks."

The man smiles and pops his lollipop back in his mouth, leaning back in his chair - feet propped up on the cash register.

Takahiro hums and walks around, picking things up, dusting books off. He finds a few things, just kind of holding them in his hands when he notices a draft around his ankles. 

He turns and sees a doorway covered by a floral blanket and grins. "Hidden in plain sight, huh?" He whispers. He leans back and around a shelf, straining his neck so his head turns towards the front desk. The clerk now has headphones on and is jamming to some foreign rock group. Takahiro smirks and sets his things down on a basket overflowing with magazines and slips through the doorway easily. 

The first thing that hits him is the smell. It's strong. Chemical-y. He feels like he shouldn't be smelling this without notifying his doctor first.

Pulling his sweater sleeves down and making a sweater paw with his hand, he puts the cloth to his face and navigates the dimly lit stairwell with cement walls closing him in on either side. 

"It's like a god damn castle dungeon down here..." he mumbles to himself.

He walks down the stair case for about 2 minutes when he starts to hear banging and yelling - laughing, too. He continues walking down the stairs, and finally hits the bottom where he nearly smacks into a dingy red door labeled 'Employees Only'. 

"Turn back, Takahiro, things can only go wrong from here. Dark stairwell, gross door, enclosed cement walls...Turn back and don't get skinned alive."

He turns the door knob despite every cell screaming 'you fucking idiot!' and comes face to face with...

A factory? 

No no, a sweat shop.

He comes completely out from behind the door and really takes in what's happening. 

Bright lights, conveyor belts going every which way, women with large breasts and men who look like they're about to pop with how many muscles they have in only underwear, and white gas masks on every face and-

Oh.

Oh God.

"Oh my God, I'm in a fucking drug den."

Through the noises of the chemicals dripping, fans overhead whirring, and conveyor belts buzzing, no one has taken notice of a one Takahiro Hanamaki who is about to shit his pants out of fear and a little bit of excitement.

He sucks in a breath when he hears heavy footsteps echo through the...underground warehouse and he turns his head towards the sound. 

Black doc martens with gold lining and shoe laces are attached to legs longer than life itself and in turn, connected to a man with full eyebrows and droopy eyes. 

Takahiro's heart stops and starts up the moment he speaks.

"Wuddup~" his tone is drawling and he smiles lazily, his arms outstretching in the trench coat he's wearing, that opens up to reveal the loose black v-neck. "You guys alright? Akira wasn't too much of a tyrant was he?"

"Definitely not," Takahiro nearly jumps out of skin when a shorter, younger looking man walks out from behind Eyebrows, looking completely unamused. "I was almost too nice today."

Another man with hair like an onion, taller than Akira, walks up as well; arms glued to his sides and chin upwards in way that looks almost painful. "Yuutarou kept me in line." Akira places a hand on Yuutarou's arm, and Takahiro can feel the calming effect it has on the man.

He nearly gags.

Eyebrows grins at the two and slings an arm around Yuutarou's neck, digging his knuckles into his spiked hair and Takahiro stifles a giggle at the way the man squwaks.

The loudest, sultriest, over-exaggerated female moan cuts through the air repeatedly, and Takahiro prays - to Buddah, to Jesus, to the Greek gods - that the buzzing in his back pocket is from an oddly angled fart, and not the ringtone he and Kenji had set last night when they were blasted -

So many guns cock it's almost comical and when Takahiro opens his eyes, every barrel is aimed at him. 

He gulps, but reaches into his pocket and answers the phone, putting it to his ear with his other hand raised. 

"Y-yo, Kenji~" his voice cracks and he notices Eyebrow's eyebrow twitch. "What's up?"

"Nah, nothing much. Takanobu bought me chocolate and flowers today, can you believe it?"

"Ken-"

"I mean, how many years have we been together and he's still buying me things, sending me little text updates, telling me how much he loves me-"

"Kenji, now's really not-"

Kenji sighs loudly and Takahiro can feel the 'marriage' speech in the breath.

"I mean, when's he gonna pop the question, y'know? He's absolutely perfect and I," he scoffs and Eyebrows waves his gun at him, as if saying 'hello, I can literally murder you right now'. "I obviously am as well-"

"Kenji!" Takahiro rarely snaps, never takes anything so heavy and serious, but he's about two seconds from becoming nothing but a bunch of holes and Kenji's marriage talk is going to actually murder him this time. "I can't talk now, I'm sorry, but I'll explain later."

He hangs up, shoving his phone back in his pocket, rubbing the back of his neck and smiling. 

"There's always that one friend who never stops talking about marriage, right? Ha, ha ha-"

"Who the fuck is this and who the fuck let him in?" Eyebrows voice is less flirty and more deadly now, deep and it shakes Takahiro right to the core. Both hands are raised now, and Takahiro tries not to think about how every drug movie ever has ended either really badass or really, really bad. "Who the fuck is on duty up there?"

Akira speaks up, bored still, hands unshaking on his gun. "Terushima Yuuji-" Eyebrows cuts Akira off with a groan and lets his arms fall to his side as he hangs his head. 

"That clown? Tooru was fucking serious about that guy? He's the fucking epitome of a white, american boy. Oh my God- Wait." Takahiro swallows as Eyebrows stalks closer to him and damn it this should not be as arousing as it is. "You just gave me a brilliant idea." Eyebrows throws open the door and slings an arm around Takahiro's shoulders, bringing him in close to his Gucci scented body. He steers him towards the center of the room and Takahiro whimpers at the amount of guns still on them. Eyebrows notices and smiles that lazy smile from before. "Yo, put your guns down. S'freaking out the new guy."

Takahiro's eyes near pop out of his skull because one : new guy? Two : shouldn't there be forms and contracts he's supposed to fill out first before joining a drug gang? Insurance and all that. And three : how much power does this guy have exactly?

"Alright, new guy, what's your name?"

"Takahiro Hanamaki." He answers, straightening up to his full height, which...They're the same height so this isn't really as intimidating as he'd like it to be but oh well. You work with what you got. "And you?"

Eyebrows blinks and laughs a little, it sounds almost taunting and Takahiro bites back an embarrassed blush. "Issei Matsukawa. I'm 2nd, well, I mean I guess I'm technically 3rd in command, but does Hajime even really count? He didn't even work that hard to get to where he is, he just-"

A gruff voice clears their throat and Takahiro laughs at the way Issei pales despite the vulnerable position he's in. "Hajime didn't even work that hard he just...what? Finish that thought, Issei."

Issei absolutely wilts and leans against Takahiro, who looks above the mess of cute curls to find a short, but buff man walking towards them with his arms crossed over a loose, white v-neck and a snapback resting on a bed of lazily done spikes. "Go on, Issei."

"Fuck off, Hajime, you're too fucking sensitive."

"Oh, I'm too fucking sensitive-" In a flash of black and white, Takahiro is thrown from Issei's grip and onto the ground, and Issei is in a headlock that's turning him purple in seconds flat. "Say that again, Issei, say that a-fucking-gain I will fucking break you!"

He loosens his grip in time for Issei to catch a ragged breath and he spits on the ground by Hajime's Adidas. "You're a fucking baby, Hajime."

Hajime goes red. "You piece of sh-" Takahiro jumps up off the ground and yells.

"Wait!" Hajime looks up, startled and in that moment of distraction, Issei squirms out of the strong grip. Takahiro breathes a sigh of relief and short circuits because he's about to fucking die. "You-I'm-" Takahiro leans against a steel table with piles of white bags on it and jerks his chin in greeting, lowering his voice for effect. "'Sup."

There's a few beats of silence, a grumbling Issei, and then everything starts at once.

"Who the fuck-"

Akira's monotone voice cuts in. "It was the new guy-"

"Excuse you, Akira, this is the new guy-" Issei is surprisingly calm for someone who almost got their neck snapped in half, Takahiro notices, but is thrown off his train of thought when Yuutarou speaks up in fervor. 

"Can I just say that we have a lot of deliveries to be doing right now and I really think it'd be in our best interest to-"

There's a collective yell of "Shut the fuck UP, YUUTAROU." and a whimper from the man before Hajime yells. "Alright, alright! Shut the Hell up, all of you! And all you workers-" Everyone who'd lowered their guns and gotten on their phones during the action suddenly perked to attention; Takahiro hears a screen shatter somewhere in the distance and cringes for the person. "Are you getting paid more money than strippers to sit around on your fucking phones all day, or are you getting paid to work like you were god damn dying tonight?! Huh?" 

Everyone begins working with new found vigor and Takahiro gets dizzy staring at their moving hands. "And you-" Takahiro snaps back to Hajime and looks around, before pointing to himself. "Yes you, get the fuck over here. Now!"

Takahiro jumps a little and scuffles to the man who's shorter than him, but definitely stronger. "What the Hell are you doing here?"

"There was a door and I walked through it?" He tries. Issei rubs a hand over his mouth, but Takahiro catches his smile.

"Oh?" Hajime's voice turns sweet, and he grabs Takahiro's arm, dragging him to the door he'd left open. "You mean," he swings open the door with more force than necessary in Takahiro's opinion, and slams the side of his fist on the label. "The door that says 'employees only'?"

Takahiro nods.

"Are you an employee here?"

Takahiro shakes his head no.

"Are you my fucking boss?"

Again, no.

"The god damn janitor? No? So tell me, enlighten me, tell me the god damn story of why your bright little ass couldn't fucking read this sign and think 'oh, this isn't for me, I should turn around and go back to where I belong'? Hm? What," Hajime gets close to Takahiro and he wants to move, but he likes having arms, likes having legs, likes living life able and happy. So he lets the shorter man invade his personal space. Hajime slams his index finger into Takahiro's temple repeatedly. "Went through that pink fucking head of yours, to make you come in here and disrupt our business the way you did? Hm?"

A number of things go through Takahiro's mind; 'I thought it was the bathroom', is a good one. 'I thought this was an extension of the store'. 'I was too lazy to go back up the stairs'. Even, 'the clerk said to look in the back myself'. But no. None of those things come out of Takahiro's mouth. Instead he says -

"You guys are drug dealers, right?"

Hajime's eyebrow twitches and Issei cackles in the background.

"We're not drug dealers, kid, we make the fucking drugs. We're the reason you have that," he makes a smoking motion with his index finger and thumb rapidly and Takahiro resists the urge to roll his eyes. "Ghanja you and your little bitch friends love to toke on outside of the hookah bar. Let me tell you something, Princess-"

"Okay, I'm gonna stop you there real quick - if I may - because really. Is the 'princess' thing because of the pink hair? I've got 20 people who call me this and they say it's because I'm cute, but I'm starting to suspect that it's-"

He registers Hajime straining his arm and letting out a grunt before a pain spiders it's way from his temple to his chin and he's on the floor, seeing white dots.

**

Takahiro wakes with a groan and an ache the size of fucking Europe growing rapidly from his head to his throat. "Oh my fuck-"

"Well, well, well," Takahiro's blood runs cold and he forces his eyes open. "Look who decided to grace us with their conscious being." Takahiro stares up at a grinning Hajime looming over him with a clear raincoat on and-

"No. No nononono, you are NOT GOING AMERICAN PSYCHO ON ME."

Takahiro looks around, breath coming out in short and fast jerks, searching for something - a window, he doesn't fucking know - but he finds something that'll have to do.

"Issei!"

The man is leaning against the wall, arms crossed, head hung and Takahiro doesn't know why he's calling out to this guy, but he does and Issei looks up with a start.

"You bellowed?" He smirks and Takahiro smiles gratefully.

"Please don't let psycho-buff-arms over here paint the ceiling with my innards. I'm too pretty to die!"

Issei huffs a laugh at that, hiding it behind his hand and he looks Takahiro up and down for a moment, letting his palm linger over his mouth. Then he rubs the back of his neck and sighs. He mouths 'you owe me BIG TIME' before waltzing over to Hajime who's preparing a- oh my god a fucking chainsaw? Seriously?

"Yo, yo, yoooo, Hajime." He slings an arm over the man's shoulders and Hajime tsks with disgust, shrugging him off easily.

"What?" He snaps.

"You sure about killing this guy? I mean, I get it, I do, but come on. Why not..." he waves his arms around. "Come up with a compromise."

Hajime stares between the two with a raised eyebrow and cocked hip, an armful of chainsaw dangling by his leg. Takahiro prays.

"A...compromise?"

"Yeah, yeah! See, Tooru's always goin' on and on about not killing, lessening suspicion and blood shed; I mean, guy's fucking nuts no doubt, but he's boss for a reason. He doesn't do things rashly." Issei taps his temple and Hajime follows the movement. "He thinks shit through and uses us to the best of his and our abilities. So why not consult the boss about having a new guy, huh? C'mon. Gimmie some dab for that!"

He holds out his fist and Hajime stares at it for a long second, then drags his gaze to Takahiro, who's holding his breath.

After an eternity, Hajime taps their knuckles together lightly. 

Issei celebrates and Hajime stares at Takahiro as he puts down the chainsaw, shrugs off his coat, and walks out of the room; but not before patting Takahiro roughly on the shoulder as he passes and that does not emit a squeak.

When the door shuts and it's just Issei and Takahiro, the pink haired man lets out a long breath of relief and relaxes, letting his head fall back. 

"Oh my God that was so intense! Did you see the way he-"

"Why the fuck did you make me do that?" Takahiro's grin falls and he looks at Issei - really takes in how he's standing and the way he's speaking. He's shaking and curved in on himself, fingers fisted in his curls and teeth gnawing on his lips. He stares at Takahiro from the side, eyes wide and pupils impossibly small. "Do you know what could've happened to us - to me - if Hajime didn't accept that load of bull shit?" Takahiro is silent and Issei raises his voice, lowers his arms, stomps to Takahiro and shakes his shoulders. "Do you!?"

Takahiro's mouth is dry and he stares over Issei's shoulder at all the equipment prepared; screwdrivers, steel bars, electric saws, knives, needles, chains...

His eyes sting.

His shoulders shake as hot tears roll down his face in fat drops; the realization dawns on him for the first time that these people are serious. This is what they do for a living, this is their 9 to 5. This is their office and Takahiro almost became another piece of paper work.

"I...I..." His voice is impossibly small and shaky as Issei sighs and curses, letting go of his shoulders and moving quickly to untie him from the chair.

When he's untied, he lets his arms drop beside him, not caring about the burns from the rope, not caring about the headache. He stares at the wall parallel to him and blanks.

"Hey, no, don't do that. You can't block shit out every time something bad happens." Issei slaps Takahiro's cheeks hard enough to shock him back and Takahiro inhales shakily, blinking rapidly. "Hey, hey. Look at me, look at me, look here." Takahiro does, he stares at Issei's eyes and notices what he couldn't when they were far apart. The flecks of dark brown swirling in the black and breathes slowly, counting his inhales, counting his exhales. He calms down soon enough and Issei rubs his back soothingly, in small circles with a warm palm.

"You alright now?" Issei asks softly. Takahiro nods and sniffs, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand and hisses at the stray salt that falls onto the rope burns. Issei gives a small smile and motions with his head towards the door. "We should get you cleaned up, yeah?"

Takahiro nods and Issei walks out, leading them to a room a few doors down from the one they were just in. 

"Do you guys have a lot of these issues here?" He attempts to joke when he notices the dirty bath tub and shower head, and strong smell of chemicals. Issei's face is grim and he doesn't answer; Takahiro doesn't push it.

Issei directs him to stand next to the sink and walks around the bathtub, leaning down to get some medicines and Takahiro tries not to stare at his ass but...

"Are you okay?" Takahiro doesn't know why that's what his mouth decides to say, but it does, and it catches Issei by surprise in the way he goes rigid, then relaxes. He walks back to Takahiro and reaches for his arm, a silent question is asked and Takahiro gives his answer without hesitation. Issei begins rinsing his wrist under the tap water, the knobs only slightly rusted and squeaky. After rinsing both wrists, he lets go of Takahiro's arms in favor of preparing the first medicine.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Are you?" He finally answers, voice soft as he unscrews the hydrogen peroxide and dabs some of the liquid onto a cotton ball, reaching again for Takahiro's arm. As soon as the object touches the burn, there's a sting, then a cooling relief. Takahiro sighs at the contact and leans his head against the cool tile wall, watching Issei clean his wound then preparing to dress it. 

"I mean, it's all a little weird, pretty scary. It's almost like a movie, y'know? But," he shrugs. "It's just something I'm going to have to get used to, huh? Since I'm part of the gang now."

Issei pauses in his movements, looking up at Takahiro through his lashes and his eyebrows look thicker when he's looking up like this, Takahiro notices, but handsome all the same. He gives a tired smile and Issei returns it, equally exhausted.

Issei cleans the rest of the wounds, dresses them in bandages, all in silence. Takahiro doesn't mind, he just watches him work and wonders who he was before this mess or if it was just something that came along as easy as moving onto the next grade in elementary school.

Takahiro wants to ask, but something in the way Issei's holding himself, smiling flirtatiously again, makes the words stick onto the walls of Takahiro's throat. He figures maybe he'll ask when they know each other better.

"You'll have to fill out some paper work, you know, just some standard insurance policies - all down low, of course - contracts, the works," he shrugs and they make their way out of the bathroom and into the hallway. Takahiro furrows his brows as he looks around at the familiar cement walls. Is it possible that they're still...

"Tooru likes things organized. He's really specific in anything and everything he does. He has a main plan, then about 7 back ups if that doesn't work and to each of those plans, he's got 8 alternative steps. That's why you've never heard of us, or seen us, or know where any of the drugs come from. He's charasmatic, he's smart, he's worked harder than any of us have or will."

Takahiro snorts as Issei unlocks a door far from the rooms they were in and they make their way up a winding staircase. "You make it sound like he's doing something that isn't horribly illegal."

Issei looks behind him, smirks over his shoulder. "Yeah, well, gotta give the guy credit. He put this shit show together."

Takahiro purses his lips at that. "By himself?" They make it to the top of the staircase and come face to face with a red door, exact to the one that had helped get Takahiro in this mess. Issei holds it open, bows as Takahiro snickers and walks through. 

"Mhm. All by himself - well, not true. He did have Hajime. And some pretty heavy incentive."

"Incentive?" Takahiro takes note of the antique shop, undisturbed, blissfully ignorant to the dangers below it. He also notices the absence of a certain tongue-pierced clerk and winces. "What do you mean?"

Issei raises his eyebrows and shrugs. "Well, I mean there's this...I don't wanna say 'prodigy' because come on. We're talking about drugs here. But this guy - Tobio Kageyama - is kind of a natural genius at drug making. I mean, he's way younger than us, but the kids got a weird gift in chemistry, with elements and shit. Makes the greatest shit you've ever had. I personally have never had it, lest I have a death wish with Tooru, but Tooru's tried it and the guy wouldn't leave his house for a month. Hajime said he was going near insane trying to figure out the equations, proportions, ingredients," Issei leads them outside and Takahiro breathes in deep, the summer air cooling due to the sun being way past the horizon and when they walk, he tries to ignore the aching nostalgia gnawing at him. Issei walks down the sidewalk to the main street and Takahiro tries not to pay attention to the fact that he has no idea how he's going to get home this late. 

"Honestly it was stressing me out and I wasn't anywhere near the guy. So, yeah. Tobio's got his own gang and he and Tooru have been rivals for as long as anyone can think of. I think I remember Hajime saying they all went to middle school together and Tobio was in the same advanced chemistry class as him. I don't know. It's all kind of stupid to me like, why not just partner up, double the profit, quadruple the number of people and supplies...I honestly think they could run this whole city, if not all of Japan if they just quit being dramatic five year olds for one second." Issei's tone had sped up, and Takahiro notices he talks a lot with his hands while Takahiro finds his hands deep in his pockets. 

"Yeah, I see what you're saying. I'd like to know about Tobio and his gang, though. Meet some of the people. Find out for myself what they're really like." 

Issei laughs and it's not mean, just disbelieving, and Takahiro grins despite himself as he stares at the man. "What? I'm serious!"

"No no, I know you are," somehow, Issei's led them to a parking lot and is unlocking a sleek black Mercedes Benz. "It's just...I don't know, different. Usually it takes people a while to get used to all of this," he opens his door and unlocks the rest. "Hell, it took me over a year to accept that this is my life now. But here you are..."

He leans against the roof of the car, props his head on his arms and grins lazily at Takahiro who's grinning back. "You're cool, Takahiro. I dig you."

He motions for Takahiro to join him in the car and Takahiro laughs as he opens the door. "Yeah? I dig you too. You did after all, nearly die trying to save my ass."

"Yeah about that, you owe me hella." He starts the car and reverses and Takahiro gasps. 

"What? Is having my beautiful mug around not reward enough?" He bats his eyelashes as Issei puts the car in drive, turning on to the main street, cars bustling and lights from the city pouring into the car and bathing them both in sharp, warm hues. 

"As much of a bonus as that is," he turns and drives towards the highway and they both buckle their seat belts, smiling as they catch their gaze through the sides of their eyes. "I'm gonna have to ask you out for dinner. You're paying, of course."

"Hm..." Takahiro puts his finger to his chin, biting back a smile and pretending the answer isn't shining in his eyes. "I guess I'll have to put up with you for a few more hours."

Issei speeds up and turns the radio on, smiling with more energy than Takahiro has seen him have all day; and it's directed right at him. "A few more hours?" He ruffles Takahiro's hair and they both laugh. "No no. You're stuck with me for a lot longer than that, Takahiro."

Takahiro smiles softly at that, and he looks out the window at the city passing by in streaks of blues, purples, pinks...

"I work in an office," he says to the window, and he feels Issei look at him then back at the road. "I'm an intern at a computer company?" He laughs humorlessly. "I mean, it could be a phone company. I don't really know. I just started. I...This is a lot, don't get me wrong, but...It's better, for me, I think."

He turns to look at Issei, who's sending him glances out of the corner of his eye. "It'll be exciting." He smiles, and Issei blinks before laughing and looking back at the road. 

Yeah, with that laugh next to him, this is Hell of a lot better than an internship.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on social media and scream about ships, anime, kpop, memes EEVERYTHIGN with me lmaooo
> 
> tumblr : justtrustmeandjump 
> 
> twitter : blurrybokuto ((or trustmeandjump but i use blurrybokuto now))
> 
> ig : blurrybokuto


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